Another fierce round of cards ended. As Shar retreated in fear, curling her exquisite body into a corner and staring at Aaron in terror, a deep sense of accomplishment filled his chest.
"Sister Shar, how much do you still remember?" Grinning like a mangy dog, Aaron slowly approached her. "Things have gone this far, and you still won't admit it?"
"Admit what? You want me to concede?" Shar's voice seemed to come from the Nine Hells, her eyes radiating a chill like ice frozen for ten thousand years. "Never! In my Realmspace, a creator goddess may fall, but she will never submit!"
She remained stubborn. Though her frightened eyes, flustered expression, and constantly retreating body gave Aaron an immense thrill of conquest, Shar was still Shar.
Her legs were weak, her body was as soft as a cream puff, but her mouth remained defiant.
Getting her to yield willingly was an almost impossible task.
"All right. So you're planning to wait until you've forgotten even first-level spells?" Smiling, Aaron gently took Shar's soft little hand, lifted the goddess of night onto his lap, and savored her beautiful legs in black stockings as she struggled to find somewhere to put them. He licked her neck. "Fine, then. Let me show you something else. I think it'll change your mind."
Shar was almost in despair. Just as Aaron had said, she could no longer remember even fourth-level spells.
She was a mighty creator goddess. She still commanded the supreme laws of the Shadowfell. Yet Shar knew perfectly well that she was finished.
Her divine shield was useless. She had forgotten every spell of fourth level and above. Something seemed to have smothered the well-practiced combat techniques in her mind, leaving her unable to use them. She had even lost her connection to